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Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Weird Wednesday: Stream of Coffee Consciousness

Not sure what to write about. It’s early.
Life changed yesterday when the school year started for everyone in the
house – students and teacher alike. A
bit disoriented this morning. But,
that’s not what this post is about.

I’ll figure it out.
Once I get my coffee.

This blog has a strong spiritual connection to coffee. I often write When Dad Cooks at 6:30 in the
morning. It’s one of the ways I wake up
to face the day.

But, that’s not what this post is about.

Man does not face the day armed only with his food
blog. He also needs his coffee. Coffee has a long and amazing history
involving colonial conquest, religious sacrifice, modern-day child slavery and
the Starbuckification of the world.

But, this post is not about those things either.

I take my coffee black.
Not with sugar. Not with
cream. Black. Do not lighten it with your confounding
confections. I want my coffee the color
of Jack the Ripper’s soul as seen from a deep cave while wearing sunglasses and
using a lump of coal as a telescope.

Some day I’ll write about the variety of waitress responses
when you order your coffee in those words.

Coffee is different in different parts of the world despite
Starbucks’s best efforts. One morning
long ago I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.
I awoke from a deep, jet-lagged sleep and stumbled to a business meeting
I could smell from around the block. And
the coffee itself walked out of the machine and down my throat.

Not heaven, actually. I was just in Munich, Germany. Those Bavarians know how to make coffee with
some crunch.

However, this post is not about Bavarians
or even Jack the Ripper. I’ll find a
topic soon. Have to before the wife
wakes up.

I don’t have a fancy coffee machine. I did once, but I got over it. It was one of those things that grinds the
coffee, heats the water, adjusts the drip rate and files your taxes for
you. I became completely dependent on
it, forgetting how to make coffee for myself.
At the first malfunction, I beat it with a hammer trying to fix it. It still didn’t work.

So, I got a bigger hammer.

And before you judge me for that, remember, I hadn’t had my
coffee yet. What’s worse, I had to
relearn how to make it for myself before I could get my coffee. I had a bad month that day.

While we’re on the subject of coffee technology (which is
still not what this post is about), have you seen these new-fangled, sleek,
high-tech machines that make just one cup of coffee? What’s up with that?

We can put a man on the moon and a lawn mower on Mars and
someone thought this was a good use of science? All that money, research and development and
you get just ONE CUP OF COFFEE? How did
that make sense to anyone? No Bavarians
involved there, by God…

But, I digress. Well,
the truth is I am digressing within an extended digression. Must be a topic around here somewhere.

Following the unfortunate incident with the coffee maker, we
bought a French press carafe. Those
French know how to make coffee too. You
have to learn how to do it, but you’re doing it for yourself. No big-time technology involved and you get a
whole darned pot of the stuff.

You boil the water.

Once the water comes to a boil take it off the fire for a
little bit. You don’t want boiling water
for coffee.

You grind the coffee beans.

I use a coffee mill that allows you to control the size of
the grain a little better. You want a
big grain with a French press pot. Pour
those lovely grounds into the pot. Then
pour your water over them. Replace the
lid and leave the plunger up. Time it
carefully. For us, it’s three minutes,
no more or less.

Then grab that knob, say a silent prayer that finally your
day is about to begin the way God intended.
It’s all about the knob now.

Gentle pressure to start, don’t rush it.

Yeah, like that’s going to happen. DIY Dad to the rescue. No fancy technology needed. Push that sucker down so you can feel the
energy flow through your veins and finally get writing!

NOOOOOOO!

Where’s the hammer?

[Chef Dad note: If this has been a particularly weird Weird
Wednesday post…well…I haven’t had my coffee yet.]

3 comments:

I generally stumble into the kitchen, glasses and hair awry, to slop some water into a cup, put it on the "beverage" setting in the microwave, and then when it's hot enough add three large spoonfuls of coffee. That's all.

Sometimes, I add instant coffee to brewed coffee. I like full body. I like strength.

It wakes me up, and that is what I need it to do.

I love this post, Chef Dad. It resonates with me. "I had a bad month that day" is me.

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About Me

My mother believed that anything worth eating was also worth frying. Mom's vegetable repertoire was limited. I was about 30, shopping with my California-raised bride, when I discovered that spinach was not naturally a bunch of green yuck that oozed out of a can.
Food and cooking is my hobby, my passion and a scholarly interest. It is also at the center of our family life.
Of course, Dad's cooking presents some unique hazards that are just built into the male DNA. It is said that men will only do things that are either dirty or dangerous and that pretty much describes the kitchen when I am in my frenzy. Early in our marriage, my wife would enter the kitchen and say some things that, well, can't be shared in a family-oriented blog, but you can easily find those words in other corners of the Internet. Over time, though, she discovered that there was a direct correlation between the level of utter destruction and the quality of the meal. These days, she comes into the kitchen, surveys the debris and says, "Oh, this is going to be good."